


a dustland fairytale

by extasiswings



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Class Differences, F/M, Grumpy Bookstore Owner Flynn, Mutual Pining, Reluctant Princess Lucy Preston, Slow Burn, The AU like three people and a cat asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 12:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17898476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: "My father never gave me a choice," Ethan says, his gaze distant. "He made it more than clear that my duty was to the crown, not myself. And I'm afraid I repeated his mistakes with your father."He looks back to her then as his fingers curl around hers on the bench."I would prefer not to continue the trend for another generation," he continues. "Which is why I'm asking...is this life what you want?"





	a dustland fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Months and months and months ago I was prompted Bookstore/Royals for a trope-mashup "send me numbers and I'll explain how I would write this" thing and then I said I would actually write the thing and started it only for it to sit in my drafts for ages while I worked on other things instead. SO. In the hope that posting some of it will get my brain in gear to work on the rest, here it is. There will be a smut scene later on, but I think I will post it as a separate one-shot so the rating can stay at T for those who are less explicitly-inclined. If it feels vaguely Princess Diaries-esque, that's what I was going for.

Many little girls play princess at some point in their childhoods. Some might dream of getting to be royalty for a day, or contemplate what it might be like if some long-lost relative showed up out of the blue to tell them they’re the secret heir to a throne somewhere or other. Some might genuinely want that to happen, assuming it would be a grand adventure.

Lucy Preston would like to note, for the record, that finding out you’re a princess? Actually being a princess? It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

* * *

Most Americans, if asked to find Merevania on a map, are probably more likely to reply “Mere-what?” than to place it correctly. When Lucy was seventeen, she was one of those people. And then, she came home from school one day to find her mother glaring across the kitchen table at a kindly-looking older gentleman she had never met in her life, was subsequently informed that said man was her grandfather, His Serene Highness Ethan of the House of Cahill, Prince of Merevania, and—well. That was about that, really. 

Suddenly, she wasn’t just a high school senior trying to get into college, she was the heir to the throne of a small country in Eastern Europe, and her whole life was turned upside down, inside out, and sideways. Ten years later, she’s still trying to get used to it. Especially when all she wants is to finish getting her P.h.D in history—she compromised with her family to spend half her time at Stanford and the rest at the university in Merevania—but the universe keeps dropping bombs on her. 

Like today. 

“What have they done now?”

Lucy sighs and settles on the floor with her back to the wall. She technically shouldn’t be using her phone in the university library, but she’s deep in the historical archives, no one else is around, and she badly wants to talk to her sister. Her perfectly ordinary sister, with a perfectly ordinary father, who can live her life however she wants.

Not...that Lucy is jealous of that. ...or maybe she is just a little. 

“I can’t just call my favorite sister?” Lucy asks. 

“You can, but you’re usually more conscious of time zones when you’re not upset,” Amy points out. 

Lucy checks her watch and winces. “Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t worry about it, sis—what’s wrong?”

“They want me to get married.” The words rush out of her, running together so quickly that Lucy isn’t sure at first whether the silence on the other end of the line is because Amy didn’t understand her or because she’s too pissed to speak.

“They _what_?”

Ah. Pissed it is. 

“I was supposed to meet Grandpa for breakfast before I left this morning, but he was in a meeting with the Council,” Lucy explains. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard my name and, well. Apparently when they changed the law to allow women to hold the throne, there was a caveat that a woman has to be married to do so, which means either Grandpa can’t step down until I am or someone else has the right to become the heir instead.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re not even thirty! And when did they expect you to have time to date anyway with the schedule you’ve been kept to? What do they want? An arranged ma—oh my God.” Amy cuts off when she realizes Lucy has been extremely quiet. “That’s exactly what they want, isn’t it? An arranged marriage.”

Lucy closes her eyes as her head falls back against the wall. “Yeah. That’s what they want.”

Amy makes a noise like a spitting cat and the clang of pots and pans comes over the line. Well, if she’s midnight stress baking, at least that means Lucy can expect some delicious mail in a few days. 

“What did Ethan say?”

“He was furious, of course. But then Nicholas started in about how the last time I chose to have a romantic encounter I nearly brought shame on the family—I left after that. I didn’t really want to hear anything else.”

“Dick,” Amy says. “You didn’t know Wyatt was married. And even if you had, who the hell is Nicholas to talk? He’s had how many extremely public affairs? It’s a miracle Emma hasn’t murdered him by now.”  
Ah, yes. Wyatt. 

Lucy met Wyatt Logan three years ago during the summer between finishing her graduate degree and starting her doctoral program. He was a soldier and he was attractive and good in bed and he either didn’t know or didn’t care that she was a princess. She liked that. She liked him. 

And then she found out from a newspaper that he was married—separated, he told her when she confronted him about it, but still married—and that was the end of that. She hasn’t gone on more than a handful of scattered first dates since. And usually, she’s okay with that. At least, when it isn’t being thrown in her face—metaphorically anyway—as a reason why she apparently needs to let a group of men in government choose her future spouse. 

“Mom called a little while ago,” she admits. “Left a message saying she needs to talk about something when I get back tonight. I can only assume it’s this.”

“Luce…” Amy sighs and in the background a stand mixer starts up. “You can say no to her, you know. You don’t have to do any of this.”

Except that you don’t just say no to Her Serene Highness, Princess Caroline Mary Helen Isabeau of Merevania. Lucy didn’t even when her mother was just plain Carol Preston to her—she had been a formidable woman even then, and now, after she’s spent several years with the title she should have been granted when she married Benjamin Cahill in secret before leaving Merevania so long ago, she is far more so. Lucy has never understood how Amy finds it so easy to live her own life and make her own choices outside of what their mother wants. 

Lucy would like to say this is one thing she can draw a line on. But the way her stomach twists when she considers doing it—actually saying no to her mother—the way her chest tightens and her breath catches…

“We’ll see,” she replies. “Maybe she just wants to ask how my dissertation is coming along. It could be something completely different.”

“Lucy? Are you down here?” Lucy opens her eyes at the quiet call. Rufus. The engineer usually works on cyber security rather than personal guard duty, but Lucy had wanted a friend in her corner when she came back from Stanford and since there is plenty of downtime for him to work on other projects while she sits in the library all day, he agreed. But even he has to draw the line when she vanishes for longer than usual. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right up,” she calls back. “Amy, I should go—sorry for calling so late.”

“Hey, no, it’s fine,” Amy replies. “Just—Lucy. Don’t let them walk all over you, okay? You’re a grown woman and it’s your life. They don’t get to tell you what to do. Remember that.”

“I know. Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye, sis.”

The call ends and Lucy takes another minute to breathe before picking herself up off the floor, grabbing her books, and heading back up to the main floor of the library. At least for a few more hours, she doesn’t have to think about monarchies or weddings or family nonsense—for a few more hours, she can just be a student. That, at least, is something. 

“You okay?” Rufus asks, looking up from his laptop when she settles in a chair across from him.

“Fine. Just family stuff.”

“This have anything to do with the count who is coming to visit at the end of the week?”

Lucy freezes halfway through turning a page. “I’m sorry, the what?”

Maybe she can find it in herself to kill her mother after all.


End file.
